You've got mail!
by jazzhands815
Summary: uh this is my first fic so pls b kind! howard and vince make friends on the internet, but things don't turn out as they expect! i'm rubbish at summaries so please read!
1. Chapter 1

**hi! i'm new to fanfiction, buti think that all u guys here are really cool. i love all the fic on here and am gonna go back and start reviewing it all cosi think u are all really genius! **

**hehe, i love howince, i think those guys are soo cute together so here's a bit of howince for you. it's based on an idea that my best friend Mavis had - and i'm trying to convince here to post here story here too because it's really cool. so, uh here's you've got mail!. hope u liek it. please review if you do. **

**joan xx  
**

"Hey, Vince! Get over here and have a look at this!"

Vince pounced cat-like across the room over to the screen that was casting light over Leroy's face.

He wrinkled his nose up in disgust when he saw what was on the screen.

"Ok Cupid? You don't need to find freakish dates on a site like that. You get loads of girls, and everyone knows that only real losers have to get dates on the internet."

"You don't get it mate. You set up an account and then can totally mess with all these girls' heads. It's well funny."

Vince grinned and pushed his friend out of the way.

"Shove over and let's have a go."

*******

Three hours later Vince was still sitting in front of the screen. Typing away. Leroy was pointedly looking at his watch and yawning, but Vince was typing away frantically.

"I've made a friend!" he announced delightedly. "Look!"

~*#gLAmRoCkSTaR#*~: hi how R u?

*******

Howard was taking advantage of the flat being empty to use Naboo's computer. He had to use it on the sly; Naboo was very protective over it. Howard figured that as long as he didn't poke through any of the documents, no one would know any better. He'd learnt not to look at Naboo's favourites, too; after accidently clicking on .com, Howard hadn't been able to look at Naboo without blushing for a whole week. He didn't even want to talk about the www. incident. He just hoped that Bollo was computer literate.

Tonight though, Howard was back on okcupid. His profile picture was a close up of his proud moustache, and he had gone into detail about his love for jazz in the profile, so why weren't girls messaging him? He'd messaged a few, but they seemed disturbed by the powerful imagery of his creamy compliments, and had all blocked him.

He jumped in surprise when a dinging sound came from the speakers. Someone was talking to him! He opened the conversation box and pulled a face at the grammar.

~*#gLAmRoCkSTaR#*~: hi how R u?

Still, Howard couldn't be picky. He had signed up two years ago, after all. He quickly clicked to her profile. No photos, but she was apparently a musician! Common ground! He opened the conversation pop-up again.

man_of_action: Hello little lady. I see you're in a band! I too am in a band. Of sorts. What sort of music do you play? I myself am fond of jazz. Trumpets melt like butter under my fingers, just like ladies. Ha.

Howard pulled a face, and edited the text before pressing enter.

man_of_action: Hello little lady.

******

Little lady? Well that was a little off but Vince couldn't be arsed correcting him. The weirdo was actually messaging him back. He didn't want to scare him off too soon.

~*#gLAmRoCkSTaR#*~: wat's a man of action like u doing in on a friday nite? i c u like jazz! Me 2. i bet u must have gurls falling over them selves 2 get 2 u!

Vince sniggered a little to himself and clicked send.

*******

Howard puffed his chest out at the reply, pleased. She liked jazz! And recognised him as a man of action! He stroked the edges of his moustache, pleased.

man_of_action: my flatmates are all out for once, so I'm listening to some expensive and rare vinyl jazz LPs, yes sir. Something a fine lady such as yourself would appreciate!

He paused, sipping his tea as he mulled over what to say.

man_of_action: Sadly the ladies are overwhelmed by my sheer sexuality. My last girlfriend was a while ago.

That wasn't EXACTLY a lie. The last bit of action Howard had seen was Old Gregg, and he had a vagina! Of sorts!

man_of_action: What about you? No boyfriend to keep you entertained?

**********

What a loser! Vince bet he'd never had a girlfriend in his life. The only jazz freaks he knew were Howard and that weirdo Lester, and neither of them had girlfriends!

~*#gLAmRoCkSTaR#*~: uh no. no 1 at the moment

Well it had been at least 3 hours since he last got off with someone.

~*#gLAmRoCkSTaR#*~: wot i reely need is sum1 big and strong to keep me warm on long winter nites.

"Put and discuss important social topics with too", Leroy added, peering over Vince's shoulder.

"I recon he's the sort to watch the news."

**********

Well! Finally, a woman who understood about the fine things in life! And she was single! Clearly Howard Moon had been looking in the wrong places for women. They were all on the internet, just waiting to be snapped up.

man_of_action: a lovely, intelligent lady like yourself? How can that be?

And she wanted big and strong! It was too perfect.

man_of_action: where do you live?

**********

Over the weeks Vince found himself popping over to 'see Leroy' a little more often than normal. He was gradually getting sucked further and further into what had started off as a laugh. There was something comforting and familiar about talking to this 'man of action'. They had moved on from their original topic of jazz and Vince was surprised at how much he'd actually learnt and how much he'd enjoyed it. The finally, one day, having discovered that they lived in the same part of town, Vince suggested meeting up.

"What did you do that for? He thinks you're a bird you nonce!" Leroy hadn't been too impressed with this bit of news.

Oh shit, this had all gone much too far. And it was too late to take it back. 'man of action' had already suggested meeting up at the railway station, informing him that he'd be under the clock at 11am wearing a red carnation. He wasn't sure which would be better, turning up and revealing himself to be a bloke or bottling out of it all together.

Suck it up and go, he finally decided. No one likes being stood up.

*********

Howard had been thrilled when ~*#gLAmRoCkSTaR#*~ suggested meeting up. He'd had to plead with Naboo to let him use his computer more often, but only when Vince had left the flat. He couldn't take Vince mocking him, like he surely would if he found out. Just because all the girls seemed to love Vince! Well, now Howard had his own. And she liked him! The entire thing made him giddy. True, they'd only spoken online, but even that had been easy. Howard didn't always find it easy to socialise. Vince was the only one who he felt wholly comfortable talking to, and now this girl, this ~*#gLAmRoCkSTaR#* had come along. Maybe she wouldn't even care about his chest deformity.

They arranged to meet at 11 in the afternoon, under the clock. Howard woke the morning they were due to meet, creeping around his and Vince's shared room, careful to not disturb him. He left Vince's soft snoring behind him at 7.30am, eager to get to the train station on time. After pacing restlessly for an hour once he got there, he decided to buy a bunch of flowers for his little lady. Roses were traditional, and Howard Moon was nothing if not romantic. Howard paced the train station restlessly, and when the clock finally struck 11 his heart started pounding wildly. By 11:03, he began to panic. Where was she? Why was she late? Had she forgotten? Had she stood him up? Oh god, what if she had been killed? Or kidnapped? Or—

***********

Vince had finally gotten up at 10:07. He looked at the clock.

"Oh shit. Now I wont have time to do my hair!"

He knew it was just some old perv he was meeting, but for some strange reason he wanted to make a good impression.

Just taking the time to pull on some skinny jeans that accentuated his round arse, a hot pink t-shirt, and running his Nicki Clark straighteners – hottest you can get – and then some root boost through his hair, he ran out the door and legged it to the station.

His boots slid across the shiny floor as he came to a skidding halt and to his surprise saw Howard standing under the clock, wearing a red carnation. The electro poof slapped himself round the head.

"ouch, that hurt."

Of course man_of_action would be Howard. Who else could Vince bear to listen to droning on and on about jazz and nature documentaries and stuff that usually bored the shit out of him?

He laughed to himself then as he realised _it was Howard._ Of course it was Howard, hadn't it always been him?

************

"Alright, Howard?"

Howard leapt, whirling around to face Vince, who looked nervous.

"Vince!" he hissed, glancing anxiously around, "what're you doing here? I'm waiting for someone."

"I know," Vince replied, strangely subdued.

"I have a date," Howard carried on, puffing his chest out in pride.

"I know," Vince repeated, biting his lip.

"With a real woman this ti-- wait, what? How do you know?" Howard glared at Vince suspiciously with tiny, distrustful eyes.

"Er."

The penny dropped.

"You little tart." Enraged and humiliated, Howard whacked Vince around the head with the bouquet.

"Ow! Howard, you mentalist, stop!"

Vince raised his arms to protect his face as Howard furiously beat him with the roses. Several people walking past stopped to stare. Howard finally stopped, shoulders heaving furiously. He dropped the destroyed bouquet on the floor, and Vince tentatively lowered his arms, showering the broken stems with rose petals. Howard looked like he was about to throttle Vince with his bare hands.

"You always do this!" he exclaimed, ignoring Vince hissing at him to be quiet, "always trying to make a fool out of Howard Moon! Well no more, sir!"

**oooh a cliff hanger! if u wanna find out what happens next please R&R!**

**luv ya!**

**joan xx  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**hi everyone! thanx for your really nice reviews to part 1, i'm so pleased you all like it. here's part 2 hope it lives up to your expectations. once again it's dedicated to my bff Mavis. Luv you! **

16:32 Pls txt me bk howard. We need 2 talk

Vince hit the green button on his phone and said a little prayer. Silently promising god that if Howard did text back he'd be good forever and ever.

Ten minutes became twenty which became an hour and then two. In that time the shrill ring tone – Gary Numan's Cars – had gone of plenty of times, but none of the calls or texts had come from Howard.

Curling up on the sofa, his knees below his chin and his arms wrapped round his legs he began to sob.

Once Howard had finally finished beating him with the flowers he'd stormed off and the smaller man's legs hadn't been able to keep up with his long northern strides. When he'd finally gotten home, flushed and out of breath, 30 minutes later, he'd found Howard in their room just finishing off packing a suitcase. He'd out right refused to listen to any of what Vince had to say and had shoved him roughly out the way as he made a beeline for the stairs and ran out of Vince's life.

Vince had sent him five texts since then:

12:06 i'm reelly sorry howard

Then

12:45 oh come on howard, it's not as bad as all that

13:56 it's cold howard and i dont no how the heating works

And

15:20 i miss u. the flats 2 quiet.

Howard had never been more embarrassed in his life. Sure, Vince had humiliated him loads of times, but this really took the god damn cotton-picking biscuit. Furious and hurt he had stormed away, ignoring Vince's cries behind him. He made it back to the flat in record time and flung some clothes haphazardly into a suitcase, again ignoring Vince's attempts at explaining. How could he explain any of this? Howard had poured his heart out to _~*#gLAmRoCkSTaR#*~_, had enjoyed that for once someone was interested in him for ifor/i him. And that they weren't a fishy sea monster. He felt vaguely guilty as he stormed past Vince, but his righteous rage propelled him straight down the stairs and to Lester's flat where he now lay slumped on the settee. Lester had asked about him breaking up with his funny looking girlfriend, and had left him to sulk in peace as he was playing a show at some local jazz club. Howard didn't even want to go along with him. Instead, he stared at his phone before finally deciding to text back.

17:34: Leave me alone Vince.

He stared at the ceiling for a while, trying to ignore the nagging in his guts.

17:56: Heater switch is under the boiler in the kitchen. Just flick it over.

For all he cared Vince could go fuck himself, but he couldn't let him freeze.

*********

Later that evening Bollo came into the flat, returning from his regular DJ slot at the ice skating rink.

The flat was as cold as the arctic tundra and he could see his breath misting in front of his face.

"Why flat so cold?" he muttered to himself.

Coming into the living room he found precious Vince curled up asleep on the living room sofa. His coat was draped over, feebly trying to provide some warmth, but failing miserably. The little man was shivering as he slept. His face was streaked with black mascara.

Then Bollo noticed Vince's phone flashing on the table. He picked it up and clumsily sent a reply to Howard's last message.

23:24 bit late now. vince frozen to death

********

Howard was snoring on the settee when Lester finally got home. He could hear the insistent buzzing of Howard's mobile on the wooden coffee table, and knew that it must be Howard's manly sounding girlfriend texting him. He knew that Howard must have done something bad to be kicked out of the flat, so decided to take matters into his own hands. He followed the buzzing sound, banging his shins on the low table and knocking a glass of water over as he groped around the wooden surface. Finally he found the phone, and after pressing the middle button a few times sent a text.

23:01: Vincey r luv ya mmre tppan jazy come back c me luv howard ps sopy w x

**********

Around one in the morning Naboo kicked Bollo out of his room for snoring. The ape shuffled into the living room and saw Vince's phone glowing in the dark again. He picked, read the message and rolled his eyes. Clearly Harold had drunk himself into some sort of a stupor and was now harassing poor Vince with this nonsense. He grunted to himself and then immediately regretted it as Vince shifted in his sleep on the sofa.

01:03 stupid harold leave prescious vince alone

Vince woke up early the next morning, his back stiff from sleeping on such a small space. He got up and stretched in a feline manner, then wandered over the bathroom, disorientated and confused as to why he had woken up in the living room.

Once he reached his first port of call, the mirror, he glanced in and saw his puffy reflection and immediately remembered what happened.

_Howard had left him_.

He remembered sending Howard some text messages and raced over to his phone on the small coffee table but the screen was blank. Vince had really done it this time. Howard didn't even care that Vince had been left cold and alone in the flat, and Howard had always come through for him before; even when he'd smashed his rare jazz record, or when they'd been buried up to their necks and left in that desert, or well pretty much whenever anything happened to them, it had always happened to _them_. Him and Howard. That was the way it worked. And now it was just him.

It suddenly struck him just how stupid this was, losing ten years of friendship over a couple of silly messages on the internet. Vince knew better than anyone that he could get whatever he wanted when he put his mind to it. He clearly just wasn't trying hard enough. If he just spoke to Howard, surely just like anyone who'd ever met Vince, he would be won over by his natural charm and charisma.

A little tentatively he picked up his phone and called Howard.

Vince heard the phone ring three times and then felt his heart lurch as the call was connected, only to have is stomach drop seconds later as he heard,

"Hi you're through to Howard Moon. I can't take your call at the moment but if you're an attractive young lady who's interested in jazz please leave your name and number and I'll be sure to get back to you."

The tone changed from Howard's bright, overly jovial answer machine voice to a far bitterer one,

"If that's you Vince, then why don't you just go take a long walk off a short pier?"

_Only one thing for it then_, Vince decided, _I'll have to go round and make him come back._

**so that's it. part 2. i hope you liked it. pls review it if you did. i'm not sure how its gonna end yet. any suggestions? joan xx**


	3. Chapter 3

**so i've finally finished part 3. hope you like it! **

Howard couldn't believe the messages he saw on his phone upon waking. Clearly Bollo was texting him, but he wasn't the one harassing Vince! He was the-- the harrassee, if anything. A quick glance at his sent messages showed some impossible to decipher text that he hadn't sent. Had Lester been texting Vince while Howard slept? HOW had Lester been texting Vince? Howard caught himself furiously rubbing his wrist in his frustration and forced himself to stop. It was so typical. Vince humiliates Howard, and he gets the fallout! Well, not this time, no sir! Even his friend Lester had let him down. Howard needed to get away from it all. Perhaps he should go somewhere warm, somewhere tropical...

He woke up to the soothing sound of gentle waves breaking on a shore. He stretched and cursed when his knuckles collided with an unfamiliar wooden headboard. Outside, a seagull cried. _This is more like it_, Howard thought. Space to himself, no-one to shame him and make him feel like an idiot. Getting out of bed, he opened the thin curtains at the window, but quickly closed them again. It was 7am, and the streets were mostly empty. Empty and grey. He sighed. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Although he was still furious with Vince, he was a bit lonely. Maybe he should have gone somewhere more tropical; Skegness just wasn't doing it for him.

Glancing around the rented Bed and Breakfast room, his eyes fell on the postcard he had bought, intending to send it to Vince. He scrambled around for a pen, and sat at the little desk to write.  
_  
Vince,_

_I've gone away for a while. You've crossed a line this time. Don't try and find me._

*********

A mad thumping on the door roused a groggy Lester from his sleep. His head was still throbbing from one scat too many the previous night and this really wasn't helping. Swearing, he dragged himself out of bed and to the front door if only to stop the incessant noise.

"Alright? Howard about?"

Oh, it was Howard's unusual-sounding girlfriend.

"Hey, Vincey" Lester managed to get out. "What are you doing up and about so early?"

"Uh, it's 2.30. Anyway, I've come to find Howard. He's here right? I mean it's not like he's really got anywhere else to go is it?"

"I'm sorry, Vincey. You've missed him. He went off somewhere early this morning, left me a note."

"Left you a note? But how did you re… Oh never mind, that's not important. Come on Lester, I know he's in there. I've brought him a present."

Vince held out a packet of flying saucers with only three remaining in the bottom of the packet.

"I – uh – might have gotten a little hungry on the way here. But it's the thought that counts, right?" He turned his most charming smile onto full beam before realising that it would be wasted on Lester and there was no point risking getting a wrinkle.

"Oh fine. If you're not going to let me in to see him then just tell him I came by and give him these will you?" Vince shoved the mostly eaten bag of sweets into a confused Lester's hands and left.

Three days later Vince was moping around the flat. This business with Howard was really beginning to get to him. Just who did Howard think he was? Okay, so Vince probably shouldn't have led him on like that over the internet, but it wasn't like he knew it was Howard or anything. There was no need for him to be this unreasonable. And to be honest, it was really putting a downer on his social life. He'd been so worried about Howard that he had only made it out Friday, Saturday and Monday night. It was now Wednesday – that was two nights off the scene and Leroy had already informed him that word on the street was Vince was losing his edge. Unbelievable!

Naboo suddenly appeared, interrupting Vince's musings, for which Vince's brain cell was really quite grateful. It hadn't worked that hard for quite some time.

"Here you go, Vince. This came for you this morning."

"Cheers, Naboo."

Vince took the card and read it, a look of dismay spreading itself across his face.

"Oh, fucking hell, Naboo. He says he's not coming back, how am I supposed to find him now?"

Naboo just rolled his eyes and turned the postcard over so that Vince could see the picture of a pair of donkeys frolicking along the grey sand in the dull English sunlight and the words 'Sincerest Regards from Skegness' printed across the bottom in bold letters.

"Yeah, them donkeys are nice and all, but they're no kittens in a barrel are they? And they're not exactly helping me find Howard are they?"

Naboo sighed and wandered off. Those two were beyond hope.

Vince was still staring at the postcard 20 minutes later when his brain cell finally returned from its tea break and read the lettering along the bottom.

"Skegness! He's in Skegness!"

_You'd have thought Naboo would have picked up on something like that_, he mused before going to raid his wardrobe to see what he had in the way of 'Northern seaside resort' wear.

******

Determined to make the most of his rare alone time, Howard decided to take a stroll along the beachfront. It was comforting, in a horrifying tourist-trap sort of way. He weaved among familes and people with abnormally huge dogs, meandering along at his own pace, hands thrust in his pockets.

_Skegness is SO bracing,_ he thought as he finally made his way across the sand. Groups of teenagers were nearby on the otherwise deserted beach, three girls wading in the murky brown water, jeans rolled above their knees. More girls stood nearby, writing things in the sand with stones and cackling loudly. One particularly large wave caught the wading girls by surprise and they all shrieked, struggling to run out of the water. Another anguished cry carried over the air, a shout of horror, a strangely familiar sound...

"Vince?!"

It wasn't hard to see where the commotion was coming from. A small group had gathered on the promenade and Howard pushed through them to see what the commotion was about. It bloody well was Vince! He was on his knees on the ground, touching his hair gingerly, his face contorted in shock. An irate looking lady stood next to him, clutching a screaming young child to her.

"How dare you!" she exclaimed, glancing around her as though looking for back-up from the watching strangers.

"My hair!" Vince moaned, pulling gently on a clump of dark hair, peering at it for any damage.

Stepping forward and puffing his chest our authoritatively, Howard took control of the situation. He was a man of action, this was his time to shine; his shock at seeing Vince here in Skegness (how on earth did he find him?!) could be dealt with later.

"What's going on here?"

Vince looked up sharply and broke out into a wide smile.

"Howard!"

The woman clutching the child looked around for a moment, trying to find the man who'd spoken to her. Finally her eyes fell on Howard and she looked momentarily startled, but quickly gathered her righteous anger back to herself.

"He pushed my Timmy over! He-- he touched him! I should call the police!"

"Wot?! I was just looking at my reflection in that mirror, it made me go all weird, it was genius, then Oliver Twist over there comes and puts his sticky mitts in my hair! I should sue you! My hair's a national treasure!"

His voice rose with his ire, and Howard rolled his eyes before grabbing Vince's upper arm and hauling him up. He staggered a little on his platform boots but stayed upright, glowering at the young boy.

"It's ok ma'am," Howard said in an authorative tone, giving the woman what he assumed was a reassuring look. "I'll deal with this."

The woman looked at Howard like she wouldn't trust him to deal with a potted plant, but reluctantly slunk away, child in toe.

Vince's face lit up.

"Aw, Howard!"

He threw his arms around his friend who pushed him back on reflex, blurting out, "never touch me!"

They stood awkwardly, watching each other. Vince was wearing dark blue boots over tight white jeans with a matching blue v-neck top, a red pashmina thrown around his neck. He seemed to be sporting a pipe on a chain. Howard suddenly felt very tired.

"I told you not to find me, Vince," he said, and turned to walk back to the B&B he was staying at.

"Howard, come on," Vince protested, trotting alongside him like a demented little pony. "I just want to talk to you! Let me explain! Or at least let me wash my hair, I can't be seen in public like this. What if I have to play a gig? Aw, it'd be shameful. Come on Howard, I'm sorry."

"Fine," Howard sighed, quickening his steps out of spite, enjoying seeing Vince hurry along after him. "You can wash your hair, but then you're going!"

The walk back to the B&B was an awkward one.

**please review : )**


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